A Tale Of Lobster Flavored Love
by Razzlephrat
Summary: I love you and I'm going to marry you, and at our wedding, we are having lobster. " -Luke, A Vineyard Valentine
1. My Hell Is Made of Tafetta

**Author's Note for the story: **I wrote this a few years ago for the ficathon which I unfortunately was not able to complete. So take into account that Season 7 had not happened (probably for the better) and there was no actual confirmation that the squicky happened.:) Also I was a lot younger when I wrote it. haha

"**Chapter One:** My Hell Is Made of Taffeta"

**Author's Note:** This is non-can, this means I'm not writin' no freaking angst! Partings never happened, the squicky never happened, June 3rd passed, and life is back on track. Make your own resolution! Also, I don't own anything.

**My Hell Is Made Of Tafetta**

_" I love you and I'm going to marry you, and at our wedding, we are having lobster. "_

_**-Luke, A Vineyard Valentine**_

"I don't get it," my beautiful fiancée sighs and rolls his eyes, "why can't you just wear the dress you already have?"

"Because, it's not white." Sometimes I wonder if his eyes will get stuck like that.

"Call me crazy," his eyes narrow, "but I remember a heated _discussion_ in my diner about how inappropriate a white dress would be." I am sure that right about now he'd have that cocky smile with his arms crossed, but his death grip on my hand prevents him from doing so.

"Okay, crazy," a hideous dress momentarily distracts me, but I continue with the original train of thought- "I want white, to represent the new us, a fresh start." I can't help but grin at the man before me. If I wasn't so sure that he secretly loved every moment of this, being my knight in shining armor, battling the armies of chiffon and tulle clouds, I might actually feel bad.

"Besides," I give him a quick kiss "whose wedding do you think this is?"

"I forgot, it's yours and the 'BFOTB'"

"And…" he is forgetting the single most important person in my life beside himself.

"Mine?"

"You must be crazy!" Indeed he is, "You forgot Rory!"

"My bad, should I change my name to Ken?"

"Lumberjack Ken does have a nice ring to it." Wow, Barbie, this man does not cease to amaze me.

"Oh!" Another dress catches my eye. "What about this one?"

"Isn't there some rule about not seeing the bride in her dress before the wedding?"

"Isn't there some rule about not sleeping with the bride before the wedding?" Two can play at that. "If tradition is what you want…" and for the love of all that is good and (in)sane, I hope it is not.


	2. His & Hers: Striped & Cinnamon

**His & Hers: Striped & Cinnamon**

I sigh, sorting through the mail and throwing my bags onto the couch. Today wasn't entirely fruitless, I've got quite a few honeymoon goodies, Luke even picked out some, with quite the fight. His excuse for not wanting to choose, other than embarrassment was:

"All of this crap gets in the way!" which inspired a mini rant, ending with his plans to keep me locked in our beautiful hotel room for our seven day honeymoon. I was quite worried that it was Friday the thirteenth, but alas, I was missing a very important appendage. I guess I've just rubbed off on him after all these years.

"So," I start toward the stairs while Luke begins his nightly routine; locking doors and tidying up a bit and once he is following me, I continue: "Where should we go tomorrow?"

"To City Hall?"

"You're hilarious!" I hand him his toothbrush and his striped flavored tooth-paste from the cabinet above _my_ sink.

"I have a diner to run, Lorelai."

"And a fiancée to marry." I stroke the back of his head while he finishes up at _his_ sink. I really just want him to be included in everything, even if he thinks he isn't.

"And in two months I will have a wife I cannot support because my diner will be turned into a frozen banana stand with amazing customer service."

"I guess you expect me to learn to cook and have it on the table by six too, Doctor Stone"

"Lorelai," his tone softens, "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"I know." I kiss him gently as I climb into bed next to him. "But I really want you to come, at least so you can see April's dress."

"You picked out a dress for her?" I can tell by his tone that it is less of a question and more of a statement made in wonderment.

"Well, generally the bride does pick out the bridesmaids dresses, you know." I scoff at him, in mock annoyance.

"Lorelai," his voice is still quite low, as if the realization that April is a part of this, a big part of this has just hit him. "You know, April doesn't have to be a bridesmaid, she'd be just as happy attending."

"I want her to be." There's no need to even think about the words coming out of my mouth before they do.

"But…"

"No, Luke. Don't second guess my decision for this. Unless April doesn't want to, it's the end of this discussion. I would not have gone through all of this, I would not have cleared it with Anna if I didn't really want it."

"Okay." What's that? No arguement? An eye roll? A defeated sigh? I crown thee, Queen Lorelai. Married life will be great.


End file.
